I’ve lost count of the amount of times I reached out to you, explained myself to you, tore my heart open and laid it out in front of you. They say that blood is thicker than water, but Mother Ship, there are oceans between us. I splutter still from our last encounter, my lungs still waterlogged, my body still bruised and grazed from being thrown about on your craggy shores. I’ve seen so many people drown in that vast tumultuous sea you spread around yourself, their broken bodies bobbing up and back down again into the dark depths. So few seem to fully escape and none unscathed. Yet your empathy as always is lacking, you simply blame them for falling in. Not a kind word was ever spoken of the fallen, you would tear apart the memories and hold up their flaws in the light of your halo.I should have noticed that every failure to connect, every shipwreck of a relationship was never your fault. I should have learnt from those drowned victims, lost loves, that one day I would join them if I wasn’t careful.
You weren’t counting on me building my own ship though. But build it I have. First I created a sand maquette on your shore, an idea of what I needed but of course lacking strength and integrity and though I decorated it beautifully with patiently laid shells, I watched it quickly wash away after your first wave hit. The second time I gathered driftwood, flotsam and jetsam and fashioned a crude vessel. I filled it with hope, but it could not float long. I came to the conclusion that I was not a natural ship builder, I lacked the skill, strength and materials to forge a sturdy, sea going vessel. I needed education, patience, life experience, but most of all I needed support and people who believed in me. They first needed to help me believe I deserved a ship, secondly to believe I needed one and third to convince me I deserved to survive.
I found that once I had those things, my ship built itself. Last year I was drowning, but this year I noticed I was afloat and that I had lost a lot of my fear of the sea. Thalassophobic no more, I realised it was up to me whether I entered those waters or sailed on calmer seas. I chose the latter and today I told The Mother Ship I would neither sail nor drown with her anymore. It is true that you can’t choose your family, but thankfully the family I have created and the crew mates who have joined me have taught me that life needn’t be continuously stormy. We don’t need to hate those we leave in our wake and we can learn from our past and not remain victims of it. Things can be harmonious, pleasant and full of love and adventure. Today I dropped anchor and climbed back to my own safe shore. I note the date and realise that this new season is a new beginning for us all.